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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580805">There's No Right Way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongLiveTheRobots/pseuds/LongLiveTheRobots'>LongLiveTheRobots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Banana Fish (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blowjobs, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone lives, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lee Yut-Lung - Freeform, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Nadia wong - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Sexual Inexperience, Sing Soo-Ling - Freeform, Sing is very excited lmao, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Soft Boys, Tension, handjobs, mature content, yuesing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:13:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongLiveTheRobots/pseuds/LongLiveTheRobots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where should you be right now?” No hello, no pleasantries. But that was Yut-Lung for you.<br/>Sing looked up at him and shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t really have another answer. It looked like Yut-Lung was about to say something more, possibly to lecture him about how late it was, or how he shouldn’t walk to his house at almost midnight, or how he could have just called. SIng thought that those were all justified lectures. But he didn’t.<br/>----------<br/>Some Singyue propaganda. Rating to go up + more tags to be added.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Yut-Lung/Sing Soo-Ling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Arrival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first work! More chapters to come, rating to (probably) go up. Not beta'd so don't hesitate you tell me about any stupid little mistakes! :)</p><p>I was listening to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1fVG1IctmA">this song</a>  (on repeat) while writing this chapter!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sing had been spending lots of time at Yut-Lung’s mansion. It was almost starting to feel like home to him. </p><p>It wasn’t like Shorter’s. Shorter’s apartment was nice, Sing liked the feeling of family it gave him. But Shorter often invited lots of people over, whether for dinner or a party, and Sing always felt out of place. The little fifteen-year-old milling around, trying to stick with the person he knows. When he gave the occasional offhand comment about how he felt, Shorter told him that wasn't the case, that no one cared. Of course, he said it all sweet and casual-like, in a way that only Shorter could. </p><p>He often slept at Ash and Eiji’s apartment. It was always warm, there was always laughter in that house. He usually liked it there, but he could always hear crying through the walls. Ash would sob, and Eiji would comfort him, tell him how much he loved him. It was beautiful and melancholy, but difficult to sleep through. He also felt that it wasn’t really his privilege to be an extra thing in their life to deal with. </p><p>He spent his nights now with Yut-Lung. He didn’t have to be worried about there being no warm water for a shower. He didn’t have to worry about being kicked out if Yut-Lung had some hookup over. He didn’t have to listen to quiet sobs through the walls. Most nights.<br/>
Sing was surprised when Yut-Lung first mentioned he stayed the night. It was just an offhand comment. </p><p>“I mean, my door is usually open.”</p><p>“Wait- actually?”</p><p>This seemed to catch Yut-Lung off guard.  </p><p>“I mean, yes. It’s a big house. It’s just me and my staff, you know.”</p><p>This meant much more so Sing than Yut-Lung knew. It meant a lot to SIng that someone would let him into their home to stay, even just for a night.<br/>
The first time Sing stayed the night, it hadn’t been planned. </p><p>It was raining. Sing had originally planned on staying at Ash and Eiji’s but they were having a really bad night. Sing felt like he wasn’t helping by being there. It was around eleven at night. </p><p>He came up to the giant doors, and rang the bell. Surprisingly, someone was immediately there. His staff, judging by the way they were dressed. They were incredibly tall and skinny, Sing had to look completely upwards to make eye contact. They looked Sing up and down.</p><p>“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment.” They said, completely level. </p><p>They closed the door slightly, walking to the large stairs behind them. </p><p>“Master- were you expecting company this evening?” </p><p>Their polite, smooth question was met with an annoyed Yut-Lung. </p><p>“Who the hell is it?” Yut-Lung yelled down the stairs, presumably from his room. </p><p>His staff came back to the door. “May I have your name, please?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah. I’m, uh Sing.” Sing was absolutely soaked, standing on the patio in front of the door. The thought of letting him in out of the rain seemed far-fetched at this point.<br/>
The door closed slightly as the staff went back to the stairs, again calling to Yut-Lung.  He was met again with more yelling from upstairs, but a slightly different tone. </p><p>Sing was let in. </p><p>The rain pattered lightly on the roof, Sing would have enjoyed it if he wasn’t tired, cold, and soaking wet. </p><p>Yut-Lung came downstairs, clad in silk azure pajamas. His hair was in two long, messy braids, which were made into a bun on the top of his head. He looked tired but insomnious. </p><p>“Where should you be right now?” No hello, no pleasantries. But that was Yut-Lung for you. </p><p>Sing looked up at him and shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t really have another answer. It looked like Yut-Lung was about to say something more, possibly to lecture him about how late it was, or how he shouldn’t walk to his house at almost midnight, or how he could have just called. SIng thought that those were all justified lectures. But he didn’t. </p><p>“Would you like to take a shower?”<br/>
“Yeah.” Sing said, barely audible. He sniffled, the cold starting to make his nose run. He hoped Yut-Lung didn’t think he was crying. Was he?</p><p>“Follow me. And take those nasty shoes off.”</p><p>He did so, slipping off his dirty, worn Nikes. Sing didn't think they were nasty, but well-loved. He did so anyway. He padded up the steps after Yut-Lung, who was already mostly up the large stairway. </p><p>The house was giant, to say the least. It certainly wasn’t a palace, but more of a modern manor. There were about a million hallways branching off of each other, with doors everywhere. He wondered how Yut-Lung got around without getting lost. There were fancy paintings all on the walls, from portraits to landscapes, a welcome contrast from the plain white walls. </p><p>Yut-Lung showed him to the bathroom, which was just as giant and extra as the rest of the house. Sing didn’t know what he was expecting.<br/>
“I’ll ask some staff to get you some towels and something to sleep in.I’m right down the hall.”</p><p>And at that, Yut-Lung left. </p><p>The shower was nice, very different from what he was used to. He came back out to a stack of folded red towels, more than Sing thought anyone would need. Alongside it was some pajamas, some long pants and a fancy, frilly, button-up shirt. He was, under no circumstances, going to wear that shirt. He dried off and put on the pants, and left the leftover towels and godforsaken shirt where they were laid on the counter. He bundled up his soaked t-shirt and jeans, not knowing where to put them. He wandered down to Yut-Lung’s room. </p><p>“Hey, uh, Yue?”</p><p>Yut-Lung looked up from his bed, donned in pillows and blankets. He was sitting up on the headboard with his phone, while the TV quietly murmured at the other side of the room. </p><p> </p><p>Sing felt put on the spot. “Where should I put my dirty clothes?”<br/>
Yut-Lung hesitated, knowing that if left alone Sing would just put them on the floor and call it a day. “You can just put it in my laundry bin. It’s in my closet, over there.” He pointed to a door on the far side of his room. </p><p>“Okay, cool. Thanks.” Sing really wasn’t looking to make conversation. He opened the door that Yut-Lung had beckoned to. Inside was giant. Pressed, ironed robes, dressed, suits, everything. Shelves of shoes, bins of fabrics, racks of jewelry and pendants. But, there it was, a large laundry bin. Apparently, he had been standing there for a bit after he dropped his clothes in, for he heard behind him:</p><p>“You know, it’s rude to stare.” </p><p>“Yeah, well, it’s not every day I see a giant obnoxious closet worthy of a drag queen or something.”</p><p>Yut-Lung threw a pillow at him. Sing stuck his tongue out.</p><p>Yut-Lung sighed. “Come sit and watch TV with me.” He said, playing up his pout. “It’s not often that I get, uh,” Yut-Lung looked Sing up and down. “Visitors.”</p><p>Sing sat down next to him, stretching out his legs. The bed practically swallowed him, what, with his small build, and the absolute abundance of pillows. They stayed like that for a while, with one sometimes moving a little, or drifting off to sleep now and then. </p><p>That’s usually how it went. Sometimes Sing would fall asleep in Yue’s bed, other times he’d go to a guest room. After a few weeks, it started to feel like home. </p><p>…………………………………………………………...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The first, like third of this is shameless fluff. It was fun to write. Hope you like it :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sing wakes up in Yut-Lung’s bed. Truly, it sounds like something from a rom-com, but Sing finds him in this situation more often than not. Almost routine. He looks over to the other side of the cushy, plush expanse. There he was, sleeping on his stomach, mouth agape and pajamas mussed. Surprisingly, his hair was still semi-intact. He didn’t have any makeup on, something that Sing enjoyed looking at. To see his dark undereyes, small blemishes, scars, freckles. Sing could look at his bare face forever.</p><p>But, it being almost eleven, they needed to get up. </p><p>Sing propped himself up a bit onto his elbows, rolling over a little to get closer to the man sleeping next to him. He succumbs to just another moment of looking at his face, as true and clean as Sing ever sees it, and starts to jab Yut-Lung in the arm. </p><p>At first, he just stirs a touch, rolling over. That man could sleep through the end of the world. Sing takes hold of Yut-Lung’s upper arm with both hands, now facing away from him, and rolls him right back over. He continues to jab. </p><p>“Yuuuee- get upppp.”</p><p>He positions himself sitting fully upright in bed, and starts drumming on Yut-Lung’s arm. Sing keeps going until his eyes start to flutter open. </p><p>There’s a moment of grace just then, large chestnut eyes looking sleepily up at him, pupils getting used to the light. Long black eyelashes veiled his lids, with strands of soft hair coming down over his face as he tilted his head, coming out of their tie. A moment, however brief, filled with peace, with beauty. Sing stopped tapping on his arm, temporarily hit with strange emotion bubbling through him, threatening to boil over in his body. It was the feeling of fear, joy, thrill, and the feeling of his stomach dropping a thousand miles. The feeling of almost flying out of your seat on a rollercoaster, and you should be scared but all you feel fitting is laughter. </p><p>They make eye contact. </p><p>“Sing Soo-Ling…” Yut-Lung says, slow, the sleep quietly draining out of his voice. Sing had the same feeling, all over again. Laughter menaced to rise in his throat, even though nothing was funny. </p><p>The eye contacted lasted just a second longer; before the silence was broken. </p><p>“I SWEAR TO GOD,” Yut-Lung complained thunderously- bunching up the quilts and comforters upon him, and flipping over as he bundled underneath them, burying himself. “I get up upon my very own accord, not one of you, Sing.” Came muffled from beneath the many blankets. </p><p>Sing smiled, not worried about Yut-Lung seeing the likes of it. </p><p>“Yeah, well, you have to get up.” Sing gave him another shove. </p><p>A pale hand shot out from under the heap of covers and gave him the finger. It immediately went back under the blankets. </p><p>Sing started pushing. “Alright. C’mon.” Both hands against what he guessed was Yut-Lung’s back, as he couldn’ entirely tell by his fortress of quilts and such. He works his way to rolling him towards the edge of the bed. As soon and Yut-Lung realizes what’s going on, he scrambles out of his little plush cage he’s made himself, which proves to be a bit difficult. He struggles for a moment, as Sing watches him with a jubilant expression. As Yut-Lung wriggles out from underneath, Sing chides a sarcastic “Good morning Yue! Sleep well?” and flashes him a snarky smile. </p><p>Yut-Lung locks his eyes with Sing.</p><p> </p><p>“I. Am going. To take. A shower.” He practically spits each syllable. He seems pissed but tries to hide his grin on the way to the bathroom. Sing notices. </p><p>“Trying to mask a smile, yeah? Don’t get too ahead of yourself, I don’t wanna know what you’re doin’ in there!” Sing says, a giggle in his voice.  Now laying down on his back in the bed, his head hanging off the side, he sees Yut-Lung shoot him the finger once again from the door of the bathroom near the closet. </p><p>“One-” Yut-Lung says, not visible from where Sing lays, but still loud as ever, “that’s nasty. Two- it’s my house and I can do what I please-” he sticks his head out of the door, now shirtless, “-anyway.”</p><p>“Yeah- well, we are housemates and I stay here too! We share a living space.” Sing counters, putting on his best snooty voice for the last part. He laughs to himself, thinking of what he’ll do next. Yet, his brain is foggy. Something about this morning, something is different. He can’t place his finger on it. As he opens his mouth to start teasing Yue, the shower turns on, the ever-familiar white noise filling the room. </p><p>And so Sing stays like that, hanging upside-down on Yut-Lung’s giant, stupid bed. Feeling- different. </p><p>…………………………………………………………………….</p><p>It was evening. The day had gone fine, Sing spent most of the day out. He milled about Chinatown, checking up on all the boys. He stopped to see Shorter and had to stay for a giant lunch when Shorter found out he hadn’t eaten yet. The weather was a bit cold though, which isn’t ideal when you walk everywhere. When he arrived back at the mansion, Yut-Lung wasn’t there. Not a surprise, he often came home late. Sing pushed it out of his mind. He had gotten very used to the place, the staff. He was pretty sure the staff wasn’t a fan of him, but he tried to be polite and nice as best he could. </p><p>His mind feeling empty, and not in the mood to eat, he decided to wander. He roamed around the house a bit, ducking his head into rooms now and then. There was never anyone over, so he mostly had free range. As he wandered, he let his mind do so as well. He thought about the day a little, thought about his boys. Was it weird to them that he was staying in the house of someone from a slightly different organization? No one had said anything, at least. He thought about Shorter. Did Shorter miss having him stay at his place? Did he even really care? Or notice? He thought about Eiji. About Ash. How were they? He hadn’t seen Ash around recently, but Nadia mentioned him stopping by when he went to eat, so he guessed it didn’t matter. And without an Ash, he didn’t see Eiji, either. They were a set, you didn’t see one without the other. Everyone knew it; it’s just how it worked. He thought about Bones, about Alex, about Kong. He missed them. He thought about everyone, letting his mind roam free as he wandered the seemingly never-ending halls of the mansion. </p><p>And of course, he thought about Yue. He thought about this morning, a perfect morning. Sometimes they’d sleep apart, and skip their whole morning bickering, their teasing. Sometimes Yut-Lung would be up before him, already in the shower. On rare occasions, he’d just be gone. Sometimes he’d leave a note. Most often he didn’t. He smiled to himself, the little argument they’d had that morning. That morning, he thought he’ burst at the seams laughing when Yue popped his head out the door and told him off. The way he smiled when he was scolding him, his head tilted for the maximum Yut-Lung effect. The way his long, black hair, wavy because of the braid it had lived in the night before, hung down because his head was at an angle. The way his neck moved as he spoke, making his collar bones moving ever so slightly. How he hung onto the door, his arm muscle flexing, just a little bit. He was very thin, but never scrawny. The way the vast expanse of his chest looked, no blemishes, no spots. He bet his skin was so, so soft. The was his torso formed a wonderful V, going down, down, down- </p><p>On the first floor, he heard the door slam. Then angry feet stomping their way through the entrance hall. </p><p>Sing was a hall away from the main stairs, just far away enough to peek around, looking at the stairs. It was Yut-Lung, obviously. He was dressed in his traditional Chinese attire, with a form-fitting waist and long, embroidered sleeves that went way past his hands, but Sing guessed that was the point. Sing mostly had to guess the lower half, as it was rucked up and in one of Yut-Lung’s fists as he climbed the stairs. He had pulled the lengthy skirt up to his thighs, therefore easier to take long, seething, loud steps down the hallway. In the other fist were black glossy heels, he held them by the heel. He was holding them so tight it seemed they could snap. He looked over Yut-Lung one more time. </p><p>His legs were perfect. Of course they were, Sing thought. </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted by Yue’s bedroom door slamming, and a slightly muffled, prolonged yell of frustration, then something hitting the wall. Probably the heels, Sing considered. He wanted to go in there and talk to him, he really did, but he knew that if he did so he would most likely have a fate close to those of the glossy black heels. </p><p>He’d wait it out. </p><p>…………………………………………….</p><p>After a half-hour, the yelling stopped. After that, the crying started. Quiet, tiny sobs and whimpers. The walls were thin, and Sing’s room was just across the hall. After another hour, the crying got quieter. It was around ten-thirty. Yut-Lung had either started to calm down or fell asleep. Both were a good choice in Sing’s mind. </p><p>In his socked feet, he walked up to Yut-Lung’s closed door. He started to have second thoughts. </p><p>He had never done this before. Why start now?</p><p>Yue could deal with his problems. He’d be fine. </p><p>But, then again, who was supposed to comfort him? His chef or some shit?</p><p>Knowing that if he waited any longer, he’d chicken out, Sing knocked. Firm, trying not to show that his hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking?</p><p>No answer. </p><p>He knocked again, nervous now. </p><p>Still nothing. </p><p>Maybe he was, in fact asleep. </p><p>He decided he’d check. </p><p>He opened the door, slow, quiet. </p><p>And there he was. Staring straight at him. Shit. Shit shit shit. He hadn’t thought this through. He had absolutely zero plan. And there  Yut-Lung was, sitting cross-legged on his bed, turned towards Sing, eyes looking directly and terrifyingly into him. His makeup was smudged all around his eyes, probably from rubbing them and touching. His lipstick was half-hazardly wiped off, with a tint leftover where it had been. His hair was a bit messy, Sing guessed he’d tried to take it out but got angry. I was everywhere, curls near his ears, half in braids, some pins and jewels, other parts down around his shoulders. Not a flattering look, really. </p><p>“Can I um, come in?” Sing questioned, not even sure of what he was supposed to say now. </p><p>No answer Only the stare. But it changed, even if he was just imagining it. <br/>He hadn’t said no. If he was still incredibly pissed, Sing would have been chased out the room ages ago, followed by a screeching Yut-Lung. </p><p>He had absolutely no idea what to say. Slowly, still making eye contact with Yue, he steps forward, and mostly closes the door behind him. Still going slow, but a little more comfortable now, he turns on the TV and puts it on a low volume. He sits down next to Yut-Lung, still scared and nervous out of his mind. He hoped Yue couldn’t tell. </p><p>He feels the bed sing with his weight as he sits down, throwing his legs over and stretching out a bit. Yut-Lung had stopped staring. </p><p>And so they sat. </p><p>With Yut-Lung with his knees up to his chest, Sing with his legs stretched out. And they watched TV. </p><p>………………………………………………….</p><p>“You should change out of that.” Sing said, quietly. An hour had passed, and Yut-Lung hadn’t gotten out of his traditional dress or undid his messy hair. </p><p>“Okay.” Squeaked a small reply. </p><p>Yut-Lung quietly got up, and walked over to the other side of the room, to his closet. He started shedding his clothes. First undoing the large ribbon belt, then the button on the neck. He reached over his head to get the line of the small buttons down his back, immediately realizing that someone helped him get them closed. He needed another set of hands to get him out of this god-forsaken outfit. </p><p>“Sing. Can you come undo the back?” </p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Came Sing’s response, pretending he hadn’t been looking the entire time. </p><p>He came over to the other side of the room, where Yut-Lung was standing. Yue was still taller than him, but Sing was starting to catch up. Only starting, though, Yue still had about a head on him. He Started unbuttoning his dress. The buttons were so tiny, he wondered why they couldn’t just use velcro or something. He guessed it was the principle of the whole thing though. ‘Velcro isn’t dignified.’ he could hear Yut-Lung saying in his imagination. </p><p>Yut-Lung was shaking. Sing caught a glance at his face in the mirror. Tears were quietly streaming down his face. Fuck. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He did not know what to do. </p><p>He kept undoing the buttons until he got to the bottom, near the smell of his back.  He took his hands away and looked at his handiwork. He strained his neck a bit to put it upon Yut-Lung’s shoulder. He was still crying. </p><p>“Hi.” Sing said quietly, barely at all. They made eye contact in the reflection of the mirror. </p><p>Yut-Lung sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?” he choked out, swallowing hard. </p><p>“I don’t know.” said Sing softly. </p><p>Yut-Lung put his hands up to cover his face kpt crying, now harder. Shit, no no no. He lifted his head off Yue’s shoulder, and looked at him in the mirror. His hands were still over his face. </p><p>“Because you’re really funny. You always tell people what you think. You’re crazy smart. You’re really sweet, even if it takes a while to get close to you. You gave me a place to stay. Even if you don’t think so, you’re a good guy, Yue.” He put his forehead into the back of Yut-Lung’s neck. A minute passed. </p><p>“I hate you.” Came Yut-Lung’s tiny reply. He sounded like he didn’t even believe himself. </p><p>“Okay.” said Sing under his breath, his head still resting on Yut-Lung. “You should finish getting undressed.” And so he did. </p><p>Sing went back to the bed on the other side of the room. And there again, was that feeling. It had taken a different form now, like a warm light behind his temples. It made him smile, and fidget with his feet in the bed. He pushed it away, but he couldn’t do it. </p><p>And so he sat on the bed, at midnight, in the dark room. Basking in sunlight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!! Leave kudos, or maybe even a comment??? haha jkjk,,,,,          ...unless?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dancing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the longer wait than normal! Enjoy though!!! ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sing came back to the house to a sleeping Yut-Lung surrounded by bottles. This certainly wasn’t a new phenomenon in his life, it just meant that he was going to have a busier evening than he originally anticipated. He walked past Yut-Lung asleep on the couch near the main hallway, and went upstairs to put his stuff away. </p><p>It was late, he had spent most of the day at Shorter’s, playing video games and socializing. Ash and Eiji were there for a bit, and talking to them was like a palate cleanser of all the violence his days had become accustomed to. </p><p>A glance at his phone and saw that it was around midnight. He put his keys and cell down in the guest bedroom, and started his way downstairs. Truly, he never knew how nights similar to these would pan out. </p><p>As he arrived at the bottom of the stairs to greet Yut-Lung, he started to think of a plan. He knew he’d need some sort of plan, as when Yue was drunk, all he wanted was to mess with people, and cause general chaos. And no matter how fun it could be to watch it all go down, he had to look out for him. That doesn’t mean he can’t have fun, though. </p><p>He walks into the giant living room of which Yut-Lung has decided to nest for the evening. The TV mounted on the wall is muted, now there for the soul purpose of casting strange light onto the walls and furniture. Yue was asleep on the large couch, with fancy patterned upholstery. He was absolutely sure it was not usually meant for sitting, let alone sleeping upon. But, there he was, laying upon his side, hair down and in his mouth, surrounded by pillows tossed to the floor and semi-empty bottles and a glass. He strode up to the coffee table in front of the couch, and took a long sip of the red win inside. It tasted… okay. But a few moments later, when he felt a warm heat pool in his stomach, he took another sip. </p><p>Yut-Lung stirred on the couch, turning a bit to face Sing. </p><p>“You should’n be drinking that.” He mumbled, a slight slur in his words. “You’re like, nine.” He laughed quietly to himself. </p><p>“Yeah, and neither should you. You’re like ten. Let’s get you upstairs.” Sing said, bending down to start getting Yue off the couch where he lay. </p><p>Yut-Lung groaned. “No, come watch, uhh,” He looked at the muted television. “Family Guy with me. It’ll be fun! Yeahh.” He said, seemingly reassuring himself. </p><p>“You hate Family Guy. Come on. You’re gonna take a shower, or at least get changed. Let’s go. C’mon” Sing said, starting to hoist Yue off the sofa. </p><p>Surprisingly, Yue complied, he let himself be taken to his feet, but not eagerly, or without some complaining. </p><p>“No…! I’m a changed man, Sing. Family Guys isa masterrpiece.” He said, taking hair out of his mouth. </p><p>“Let’s go. Up, yeah, alright good job.” Yut-Lung has on his feet now, smiling slightly at being praised. He threw an arm around Sing’s neck. Sing took it off. </p><p>“Nope. You can walk. We both know it.” Sing poked, smiling. </p><p>With that, Yut-Lung looked Sing directly in the eyes, smiled, and sat right back down. </p><p>Sing covered his face with his hands. “I hate you so goddamn much.” </p><p>Sing couldn’t see it, but Yut-Lung smiled at him. “I know. Come sit dowwn!! C’mon let’s watch TV.” He started filling his glass back up with red wine. Sing plucks it out of his grasp. Yue groans. </p><p>“You never let me do anything funn.” </p><p>“You’ve been here getting drunk and sleeping for the last few hours. How’s that for fun?”</p><p>“Mmm.” Yut-Lung sings deeper into the couch, unmuting the TV. </p><p>Begrudgingly, Sing sat down next to Yut-Lung. They sat like that for a while, Yut-Lung drifting upon the edge of slumber, only to will himself back awake. Sing actually seems pretty interested in whatever’s on, delighting Yut-Lung with the occasional chuckle or giggle. </p><p>But, when it came down to it, Yue was bored, and wanted something to do. He would get up, but his head hurt. So, what better to do than fuck with Sing. Devising the plan in his head, Yue did his best fake-sleepy impression, and he slowly snuggled up to Sing to put his head in his lap. Yut-Lung tried his best to try to not burst out laughing when he put down his head and felt Sing tense up, confused. </p><p>Sing’s thoughts started reeling. </p><p>
  <i>Don’t freak out. He’s drunk and playing with you. It’s late. Nothing will happen. Yut-Lung would never. We’re friends. He’s drunk. You’re tired. He’s tired, too, probably. You’ve fallen asleep together numerous times. This is normal. This is fine. Why is this weird? Why did I make this weird. This wouldn’t be weird a week ago. My stomach is warm. Remember how to breathe. What is happening. Let him sleep, or whatever he’s doing. Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.</i>
</p><p>These feelings, Sing had been thinking, were like the tide. Most times, the tide would be out, he was free to do whatever he pleased. The beach was large, vast, and this was the norm. He could go upon his daily life, simply wander about. But then, moments like these would happen. Yut-Lung would subconsciously snuggle up to him, close, as he slept. He would be teasing Yut-Lung, as the norm, and something would make Yut-Lung smile, a true one. One with full, stretched lips, and pearl-white teeth he was rarely graced with. Sing could be laying on the bed shirtless, and Yue would casually tell him he was pretty. Yut-Lung would laugh. Yut-Lung would put his head down on his lap. Yut-Lung would fall asleep next to him during a movie. </p><p>He kept thinking about this, and thinking and thinking. He started to calm himself down, convince himself this was okay. This was normal. </p><p>However, one thought came out of the blue and turned everything upside-down. </p><p>
  <i> I bet his hair is like silk. </i>
</p><p>Without a moment of contemplation, he reached down to the head lain in his lap. He threaded his fingers through Yut-Lung’s raven hair. In that moment, it was so smooth, so soft. </p><p>Nevertheless, it was only for a moment. The second Yue felt someone’s hand in his hair, he expected the bitter sting of a yank. He was on his feet in an instant. He had shot up immediately, eyes wide, body stiff, hands coiled up to his chest.<br/>
Sing’s hand was momentarily caught in Yut-Lung’s hair, but it being as nice as it was, it came out without trouble. </p><p>There was a terrifying moment of tension, Yut-Lung standing in front of Sing, Sing sitting below. They were both scared. </p><p>Yut-Lung was expecting a yank, something he’d gone through more times than he could count. At that moment, he wanted to cry. Not out of fear, not out of surprise; but out of anger of his past. Out of anger that this was his first reaction, to be on guard, ready to fight, to scream. It disgusted him to the bone that he had this reaction to someone he cared for, someone he was close with. </p><p>Sing didn’t know what to do. He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell Yut-Lung that he was sorry, that he didn’t know, but also that he should have known better. He felt stupid. Stupid, stupid. </p><p>He wanted to give a speech. Write him a sonnet. Tell him everything he had been thinking about him in the smallest hours of the morning, tell him everything he thought, everything he felt. </p><p>“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” Came Sing’s weak apology. The warm feeling was gone. Replaced with cold, unlocking disgust. At everything. At himself. </p><p>They made eye contact. </p><p>Yut-Lung put his hand over his mouth. </p><p>No. No no no no not this please not this-</p><p>Tears were welling in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. His shoulders shook up and down, his breath uneven, laboured. </p><p>“Yue, no- don’t- shit- don’t- no- don’t cry. Please.”</p><p>Yut-Lung half-hazardly wiped his face with his sleeve, sucking in a large, shallow breath. </p><p>Sing stood up, still having to look up at Yue. </p><p>“Can I hug you?”</p><p>Yut-Lung started weeping, once again, but nodded his head. </p><p>Sing put his arms around Yut-Lung. His temple touched Yut-Lung’s cheek, still wet with his tears. </p><p>Yue started to speak. “Sing, I’m sorry- I-”</p><p>“Shut up. It’s fine. I should be sorry, fucker.”</p><p>And they stayed like that, after Yue eventually draped his arms over Sing’s neck. </p><p>A moment passed. </p><p>Yue started to sway. </p><p>Sing started to sway with him. </p><p>Slowly, leisurely. Left, right, left. Their feet started to move. Quietly moving around the table at their shins.</p><p>Slowly, they wandered. </p><p>They spun. </p><p>Little by little, they became more confident. </p><p>Comfortable in each others’ steps, they meandered around the room. </p><p>And it went on like that, in silence, their breathing becoming even, in sync. </p><p>From the eye of someone they knew, they would have looked strange. Two scarred  gang members, unhurriedly dancing around a room at one a.m. </p><p>But in reality, they were just two boys, who only had each other. They were hurt, scared. </p><p>Yet, there, in that living room, wandering aimlessly, in each others’ arms, comfortable. </p><p>And for them, that was more than enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you liked it!! Stay tuned for more soon! &lt;3 stay safe</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lightning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Longer wait for this chapter from me than normal! Weird times. Hope you like it :)</p><p>NOTE!</p><p>“<em> <span>hover</span> </em>” over the Cantonese characters to see the translation! ((I worked too hard on that part it was difficult, I have square brain))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, you’re into him, yeah?”</p><p>“<b>Shorter </b>. You can’t just say that! No- oh my god-”</p><p>“It’s fine. We’re in the back. No one here gives a shit anyway.”</p><p>He had a point. They stood next to one of the sinks, washing and drying dishes. The dining area of Chang Dai quietly busted with late-night customers, mostly leaving now. The kitchen staff were chatting and milling about, providing a nice background of noise for their conversation. </p><p>Sing spent many of his days here, helping Shorter and Nadia out. He used to wait tables but it usually ended up with incorrect orders and angry customers. </p><p>“Answer my question? Mm?” Shorter eyes Sing, overaxagerrating his eyebrow movement. It’s lighthearted banter, but he can tell Shorter really wants to know. Shorter is much faster at rinsing and soaping the dishes than Sing is at drying them, and a pile has started to form at his left. </p><p>“This isn’t fair play! I never ask about the people <i> you</i> have over do I??” Sing queries, nudging Shorter while still focusing on the dishes. </p><p>“Fine. But I want to know!! This shall not go unanswered!” At the last bit, he holds up the soapy dish above his head, perhaps like a knight going into battle.<br/>
“Yeah yeah, keep washing. I want to leave soon.” </p><p>Shorter flicks water at him. He flicks water back. </p><p>A few minutes o by, washing and drying dishes. Sing listens to the quiet ambiance of the restaurant, only a few people in the dining room. Nadia is chatting with a couple at the far end of the room, friendly-like. He loves to see the warm smile on her face, something he rarely is graced with. He gets it’ hard to run a restaurant <i>and</i> take care of a brother. Especially one like Shorter. </p><p>“You’re totally into him. I know it. I always know Sing! I knew about Ash and Eiji before they even did I swear to god. And look at em ‘now, attached at the fuckin’ hip.” </p><p>“I don’t want to hear anything else come out of your mouth until I leave. I’ll tell Nadia you spit in someone’s dish or something.”</p><p>Shorter laughs, telling Sing that would be low on the list of shit he’s done. They squabble for a bit, both getting incredibly wet with dirty water and dish soap. They must have been being louder than they thought, for Nadia came around to speak to them. </p><p>“Both of you. The dishes are done. Upstairs. Now. Change; Shorter, get Sing something to eat. Go.” </p><p>Sing started to try and tell Nadia that he wasn’t hungry, put her palm up to him and walked back into the dining room. Shorter suggested that they didn’t have to, but Sing told him he didn’t want to die via Nadia’s rage. Shorter agreed with him and they made their way upstairs. </p><p>The apartment upstairs was almost exactly how you’d think it’d be. Not big, by any means, but it was minuscule. There was a connected kitchen and living room, with Nadia and Shorter’s rooms around the corner. It was neat, but certainly lived-in. Lots of sticky notes posted upon random surfaces, scrawled in both english and cantonese.</p><p>“<em> <span>諗住星期三夜晚嘅食物!</span> </em>”</p><p>- Nadia’s handwriting. Thin, quick. </p><p>'Big party is coming to the restaurant on Sunday. Remember to prep salads.' - Shorter’s handwriting, large, rounded.</p><p>“<em> <span>問下周二的火山灰</span> </em>”</p><p>-Nadia's.</p><p>“<em> <span>佢唔會拎起佢電話!</span> </em>”</p><p>“<em> <span>就問艾吉!</span> </em>”</p><p>Next was a crude drawing of a middle finger. Definitely Shorter.<br/>
Shorter was already at the counter, getting out a cutting board and starting to rummage through the fridge. When it came to cooking for others, Shorter either completely half-assed it, like orders pizza, or goes all-out. Fortunately for Sing, it seemed to be the latter tonight. He was piling ingredients up in his arms, taking sauces and bowls out of the cupboards. Sing sat down at the table and started scrolling through his phone. He had a few texts from Yut-Lung, but all he usually sent was screenshots of Pinterest boards or something he saw in a store. He swiped out the notification and bummed around on Insta or something.<br/>
They sat in peace for a little bit, simply enjoying each other’s company. Sing loved that, when two people were just able to exist, together. Not talking, or doing something, or truly even acknowledging the other. Just to be. Just to be in the other’s presence.<br/>
About half an hour passed, and Shorter served Sing some dinner. He made for Char Siu, which is basically just BBQ chicken, for as far as Sing is concerned. He didn’t realize how hungry he was.<br/>
Shorter sits down next to him, resting his head atop his hand. He smirks.<br/>
“Do you <i>like</i>  it?”<br/>
“Yeah- it’s good.”<br/>
Shorter scoffs. “I know.”<br/>
Sing leans back in his chair. “Oh? Well, I was lying. I hate it. Nasty-ass. Disgusting. I might throw up. I don’t know how I put up with your cooking. I don’t think I will ever eat again. Anything. You’ve scarred me.”<br/>
Shorter sits back and laughs. It’s a wonderful sound. Loud and bubbly, rising up and blossoming around the apartment.  Sing wishes he could put it in a jar and keep it.<br/>
“You’ve totally been hanging out with Yue too much.” Shorter picks a bite off Sings plate and pops it into his mouth. Sing slaps his hand away.<br/>
“I have not! Also, this is my dinner. Fuck off.”<br/>
“Oh, yeah, you only just live with him, only hang around him, talk about him constantly, and now you’re starting to act like him. In the best ways, of course.” Shorter coughs, and Sing thinks he hears a ‘sort of’.<br/>
“I do not ‘live’ with him! He lets me stay over. All the time.” As he said it, he realized what he was saying. But he didn’t want to dig himself deeper into that hole.<br/>
“Why?” Shorter questions, serious now.<br/>
“Why what?” Sing knows exactly what he’s talking about, but something in him wants him to try and put it off. To steer their conversation somewhere different.<br/>
“Why do you stick around him? Like, other than housing.”<br/>
“Because living with that absolute drama queen is like having my very own personal reality TV show. It’s great.”<br/>
“Sing. Serious.<br/>
“I don’t know. It’s housing, and he’s sweet. He’s actually a pretty good guy. </p><p>“You’ve gotten close to him, dude. That’s impressive, it takes a special person to get that bitch’s guard down. If you feel like if you feel like he means more to you than you do to him, that’s okay. It’s like that sometimes. But if you feel like there’s something goin’ on, you tell him. The worst that could happen is he says no. Sing, I have been through this so, so many times. But if Yut-Lung is special to you, grasp that shit. I’m tellin’ you, that boy is like lightning in a bottle. Once you’ve got it, which you do, you can’t just let that shit go. Even if you decide not to tell him, at least acknowledge it within yourself, man! I love you but I can’t interfere with this one. You gotta figure this one out yourself.” </p><p>Sing looks up, making eye contact with the person on the other side of the table. He gives him a short smile. Shorter takes Sing’s empty plate and puts it into the sink. He starts to wash it off, asking Sing when he’s gonna get back to Yue’s house. </p><p>“Soon. Wait, I’ll call him.”</p><p>Sing gets up and selects Yut-Lung’s contact on his phone. </p><p>“Hi Sing!” Cheerier than usual. Whatever. </p><p>“Hey, I’m at Shorter’s. Don’t feel like walking. Can you pick me up?”</p><p>“You know I don’t drive.”</p><p>“<i>You</i> know what I mean.”</p><p>“Alright… I shan’t make you walk.” He hears Yut-Lung giggle. </p><p>“Jesus, are you drunk? It’s only, like, seven.” Shorter laughs from the kitchen. </p><p>“I’m just tipsy. It’s fine. Yeah I’ll send someone. I’ll come with. See you in fifteenish! Say hi to Shorter for me. Actually, don’t. Goodbye!” The call cuts off in the middle of Yue’s laugh. Sing smiles at the phone. Idiot. </p><p>……………………………………...</p><p>He gets a text twenty minutes later saying that Yut-Lung’s there. He says his goodbyes to Shorter and Nadia, having to wait for a moment as Shorter insists that he take some food home. He manages to leave with only two tupperware full of Shorter’s cooking. The small plastic boxes are warm, with beads of heat forming at the top from the evaporation inside. They heated up his hands, comforting to the bitter chill of the night. </p><p>He saw the large white car sitting across the street, went up and got in. Yut-Lung sat on the other end, looking up and waving. It looked like he hadn't had anywhere special to go today, as he was dressed pretty causally. His hair was in a low pony, with some stands hanging in the front. </p><p>“Hello Sing.” Yut-Lung smiles. </p><p>“Hey.” He smiles a polite smile. </p><p>The car starts driving, and they sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Sing watches the bright lights of the city in the night, all blurring together into a beautiful chaos. </p><p>“Do you like my hair? I got it trimmed today. The woman who did it used some weird product on it. What do you think?” He circled his ponytail in his hands and pulled over his shoulder. </p><p>“I mean, it looks good. I think it looks how it normally does.”</p><p>Yut-Lung sighs. “I know that didn’t mean to be an insult-”</p><p>“Nah, it looks nice! But your hair always looks good, I guess.” </p><p>“Hm. Alright. But you’re on thin ice.” </p><p>They go back to their comfortable silence. They arrive at the unnecessarily giant house, and walk in. He puts the leftovers from Shorter in the fridge. Yut-Lung went upstairs, presumably to his room. Sing milled around downstairs for a bit, then climbed up to the stairs to get ready for bed. </p><p>About halfway through getting his night clothes on, Yut-Lung calls him from down the hall. </p><p>“Siiiiiiiiiiiiinnnng.”</p><p>Sing sighs, pulls on some pants, and ventures down the hall to Yue’s room. When he arrives, Yut-Lung isn’t in his bed, but in fact in his closet, rummaging around. </p><p>“What do you need? I'm tired, Yue! I swear to god if you just want to show me something you bought today- I’ll riot.”</p><p>Yut-Lung waves a hand at him, not looking. “No, no, I just had an idea.”</p><p>“You should pay me to keep up with your bullshit.”</p><p>Not paying any attention to Sing’s previous comment, Yut-Lung spins around and locks eyes with Sing. </p><p>“I’ve never seen Sing Soo-Ling in a suit.”</p><p>“No. No no no no I’m leaving. Goodnight, Yue. I-” </p><p>“I don’t care! C’mon! It’s not that late! Get in here-” He takes Sing’s forearm, pulling him towards the closet. “Help me find one that’s your size. I undoubtedly have one from when I was younger in here.” </p><p>“You’re the worst. I hope you know that. I don’t know why I put up with you. Truly.”</p><p>A triumphant laugh comes from the other side of the closet. “Got one! I am <i>so</i> excited.” He strides over and pushes it up to Sing’s chest. </p><p>“Go! Go put it on!” Yue shoves him towards the bathroom. Although not wanting to, Sing goes in and closes the door. With the suit in hand, he looks at it for the first time. </p><p>It’s beautiful. </p><p>A smooth, black fabric, with pronounced creases in the pants legs and sleeves. Creeping up from the sleeves, and down one shoulder was intricate embroidered roses, sewn with golden thread. Thin vines crept up and down, with small pointed leaves. The vines twisted and twirled at the ends, looping all around. He ran his hand over the designs, feeling the texture under his palm. Slowly, careful not to wrinkle or crease it, he put it on piece by piece. After a few frustrating minutes, it was on. Surprisingly, it fits wonderfully. Comfortable, fitting. It felt nice on his skin, not stuffy. He didn’t want to think how much it cost. Or where it had been worn to by a thirteen-year-old Yut-Lung. </p><p>“Are you gonna do it or what?” Comes the muffled call from outside the bathroom. </p><p>He opens the door, almost embarrassed how much he liked it. </p><p>Yut-Lung is sitting on his bed, right outside the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything. </p><p>“You look so good? Sing! How come you don’t dress formally? You look so nice! Sing!” </p><p>Standing there, Sing was hit with a wave of- something. Warmth pooling in his abdomen, laughter starting threatening to boil over in his throat, heat starting to rise in his cheeks.<br/>
Yut-Lung gets up off his bed, coming up to Sing. </p><p>“Seriously, Sing. You look so nice. I’m surprised how well it fits!”</p><p>“Yeah, I thought it’d be too small. I have more muscle than you will ever have, ever.”</p><p>“Alright, okay. Not what I meant.”</p><p>Sing raises an eyebrow and smirks. “It’s the truth! Yue, you’re the skinniest bastard I know. And I’m pretty light.” </p><p>Yut-Lung doesn’t say anything, just smoothes the sides of the suit on Sing’s hips a few times. It’s a wonderful feeling, the pressure of Yue’s hands on his sides. Yut-Lung’s focus isn’t on Sing anymore, it’s somewhere completely different. His gaze trails over the embroidery, seemingly in thought. He put his hands on Sing’s shoulders, trailing down his arms. </p><p>Once,</p><p>Twice,</p><p>Three times. Sing tries his very best to just think about anything but this. Don’t think about this. It’s fine. He just likes how it looks, he likes fancy dress. </p><p>Yut-Lung’s hands stop roaming on Sing’s arms, come up to his shoulders, and come down to rest upon his chest. </p><p>“Sing, have you ever been kissed?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>kissessss</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You'll notice I've upped the fic length to nine chapters! <b>And</b> I've added a new tag, Slow Burn. Love ya!</p><p>
  <i>listening to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMOd6jz548Y">this song</a> while writing this! Hope you like :) <i></i></i>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sing takes a breath. </p><p>Then another. </p><p>And another. </p><p>Yut-Lung’s hands on his chest, having to look slightly down at him. It was starting to quietly sleet outside, small ice pellets hitting the window and roof, creating a welcomed background noise to Sing’s thoughts. </p><p>Faces inches apart, breaths mingling. Yut-Lung doesn’t seem to mind the silence. His hands slowly trail down from his chest, making their way to Sing’s hips. </p><p>He can practically taste Yue’s lips. Enticing, smooth. Every single part of Yut-Lung’s body was well-taken care of, nurtured and kept healthy. </p><p>And he wanted it. He wanted it so badly. He wanted his lips to lay atop Yut-Lung’s. Hold put his hands on Your-Lungs hips. To snake his hands under his shirt. Through his hair. To leave kisses everywhere, all over his body. Light, fleeting ones. Hard, bruising ones. To simply drink him up. To whisper him sweet nothings. To tell him everything. To play out all his feverish fantasies and thoughts, the ones that kept him up at night, full of passion and emotion. </p><p>Sing wanted to cry, his quixotism spilling out of his body. </p><p>Because he knew that he couldn't have this. Not now. </p><p>“Yut-Lung, you’re drunk.” </p><p>Never had he seen someone’s expression change more quickly. Yut-Lung’s face went from open, vulnerable, to the closed-off boy that Sing lived with every day. From someone who was showing himself in all, to the person who got drunk when he was bored. </p><p>Sing hated it. He hated it so, so much. </p><p>“It’s just a question.” Hands taken off his hips. His words were sharp, cornered. Cold.</p><p>“I know, but I understand what you’re doing. I don’t want you doing or saying something that isn’t true. Or something you’d regret, come tomorrow.”</p><p>Yue steps back; his brows lowering. </p><p>“What would you do if I <i>hadn’t</i> had anything to drink?”</p><p>“That isn’t what I’m talking about. It’s late. You need sleep.”</p><p>“Is this because you don’t think I can think for myself? Because you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”</p><p>“No- it’s-”</p><p>“What is it, Sing? Mm?” He was starting to gain volume. “Do you think I can’t control myself? I’m just some <b>thing</b> that only does things to mess with your head? I’m trying to do something <i>nice</i> for you Sing. Don’t you want it? Because I know you do.”</p><p>Sing was starting to reel. His temper was starting to surface, starting to boil and bubble within him. “Why, Yue? Do you feel it’s your <b>job</b> to give things to me? I can exist without you, you know! I don’t need you to ‘take care’ of me! I would perform perfectly well if I didn’t have you, you know. I try to do <i>one</i> thing to keep you safe, and you freak out. I’m trying to keep you from doing something stupid. Just this once! Because I have this <i>feeling</i> that you’re putting on a show. Just like you were fucking trained.”</p><p>Yut-Lung keeps stepping backwards, each step, his guard hightening. “I am simply picking up upon <b>signals</b> Sing. I see how you fucking look at me. <i>I’ve even heard you whimper my goddamn name in your sleep.</i> I know what I am doing, tipsy or not. If you want it, and I want it, why stop us?”</p><p>Sing really wanted to cry. Just to sit down right there, on the carpeted flooring of the room. He wouldn’t he could never. “Because you’re not <i>yourself</i> right now. Every single person we know has gone through something of the like. Including yourself. Jesus, of all people, I thought <b>you</b> would understand that you can’t just go around doing shit like this when your decision making skills are fucked. Of all people!”</p><p>Yut-Lung stops stepping back. He’s still, even just for that moment. “Did you just compare me to my abusers? Sing, the people that have made my life the living <b>hell</b> it is? I <i>would</i> never do that. I am disgusted. Oh my god.” He starts to yell. “I give you a place to stay! A place where I at least <i>hope<i> hope you feel safe!  A place that I have NEVER had, Sing. I let you go OUT, when in reality, only GOD knows when, or IF you’ll be back. I care for you <i>SO<i> much Sing! And you feel that a buzz has impared that feeling? I cannot believe you.” </i></i></i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Yut-Lung! I NEED you to know that ISN'T how I perceive you.” Shit, now he’s yelling. His temper is out, no use trying to stuff it back down into his chest. “I have seen you make TOO MANY bad decisions while drunk. And I don’t care that you give me a place to stay!  thought we HAD something, for shit’s sake! I could survive perfectly well without this roof over my head. Honestly, I’d be EASIER! I wouldn’t have to deal with this godawful hot-n-cold all the time! I wouldn’t have to help you when you’re falldown drunk! I wouldn’t have to help you when you’ve seem to have lost you goddamn will to live, when you’re sobbing and heaving, feeling fucking sorry for yourself.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>For a moment, Yue catches Sing off-guard, by striding forward. He’s confused, but only for a moment, when he realizes what’s happening. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung winds back, and slaps him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Hard. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing feels it more on the pull-back than he does on the initial impact. First, it’s the cold, thin hand bracing upon his face. Then, it’s the bitten sting it hath left behind. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Get out.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing barely has time to react, his hand trying to soothe his aching cheek. “Wait-”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“<b>Now. </b>”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Slowly, it starts to hit Sing how much shit he just said. How much it must have hurt. But it was far too late now. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Yue, I-”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Get out of my house. Right now.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing felt small. Weak. He was disgusted with himself, on how he acted. On what he did. He curled  his hands up to his chest, something he used to do as a little kid. He lowered his head a bit, still looking up at Yut-Lung. He didn’t know what he was feeling. Sad? Angered? Scared? A million thoughts were fighting for attention in his mind. And there they were. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>The tears starting to roll down his cheeks. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“<b>NOW!</b> GO! LEAVE!” </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing felt trapped, yet at the same time lost. Yue was still screaming, but time had seemed to com to a full stop. The sleet was still coming down. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>His thoughts had gone quiet. The eye of a hurricane. Tears wete his face. His cheek stung, still. Yut-Lung was screaming now, making wild gestures and seeming like he, too, could cry. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing turned around. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Walked towards the door of the bedroom, then out it. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Down the hallway. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Down the stairs. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Past the living room. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Through the front hall. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He opened the door. He was greeted by city sounds, and ice pellets hitting his face. He wiped his eyes. His face burned. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Shorter. That’s where he could go. Okay, Shorter. Shorter. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing started to walk towards Chang Dai. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>…………………………………………………..</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>The walk was long. Difficult. His head was reeling. He had stopped weeping, dried the tears from his eyes.  He had calmed. His breathing was becoming even once again, starting to regain his bearings. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>It was midnight, Chang Dai was closed, of course. But somehow, even in it’s storefront darkness, it gave a warm and welcoming glow, seemingly happy to see Sing. He went around the back and climbed the stairs to the door of Shorter’s apartment. He knocked. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Nothing. It was late. Maybe he couldn’t stay there. Shit. He hadn’t thought of a plan B. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He knocked again. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>The door opened. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Shorter was there, looking tired, but mostly confused. He had on only boxers, he was most likely sleeping before Sing had come. His expression softened as he saw the boy standing before him.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“What- why- Sing-”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing stepped forwards and put his arms around Shorter’s torso. Shorter stiffened for a moment upon impact, but quickly relaxed into it. He put his arms around Sing. Shorter was much bigger than Sing, and his bare chest was the perfect cushion for his head to lay upon. Warm and soft against the hard ice coming from above. This was so nice, that Shorter cared about him in this way. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>They stayed like that for a moment, unmoving. Shorter was the first to speak up. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Kid…” </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>That was it. That’s what did him in. He buried his face into Shorter’s warm body, and started to cry again. To sob. He heaved and sniffed, ugly weeping all over him.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“We fought.” Sing replied through bouts of tears. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Okay, alright.  Let’s get inside. I’ll cook you something. Let’s talk."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kudos maybe? Comment???? JKJK,,, </p><p> </p><p>unless?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Distress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>shit goes down.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>upped the rating to mature, but only for some violence. pull your pants back up. this chapter is way longer than my usual stuff, but I was actually going to be connected with the NEXT chapter, but then I realized it'd go on for too long. i actually edited this one and read through it more than once, so that's a change! hope you like :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And so they talked. </p>
<p>Shorter gave Sing something to change into out of the fancy suit, with minimal questions of why he was adorned in such an outfit. The t-shirt practically swallowed him up, settling at his thighs, but he didn’t care. Hell, it was really soft. He gave Sing something to eat, some Cong You Bing. One of Sing’s favorites, essentially savory, thin, scallion pancakes. They tasted better than ever, as having just walked all the way here in the pouring rain. </p>
<p>Sing told him everything. He cried again. Then one more time. If anything, Shorter was a good listener. He didn’t look tired anymore, and if he was, he was adequate at hiding it from Sing. After lots of frustration and anger on Sing’s half, and lots of chill discussion on Shorter’s end, they decided to tap out at around 3am. Sing slept on the couch, listening to the still-alive bustle of the street of Chinatown below him. </p>
<p>It felt strange, sleeping there. He’d done it many a time before, however he felt off. He had spent so many nights at Yut-Lungs, it felt shifted, like reality was altered. Like swimming in a pool at night, or having to walk through empty hallways. He stared up at the ceiling, looking at the subtle cracks, forming what looked like some sort of purse. The lines coming together in a slanted square, with a loop at the top. He tried to think of other things that started with p. He needed sleep. His mind kept wandering to what happened earlier that night. His face still stung, a bitter reminder of what had been said. He hadn’t even thought that hard on the words coming out of Yue’s mouth. He mostly listened to his tone, and that’s what scared him. </p>
<p>“<i>I see how you fucking look at me. I’ve even heard you whimper my goddamn name in your sleep.</i>”</p>
<p>Did Yut-Lung really say that? Sing didn’t know how to feel, even still. Angry? At the fact that Yue couldn't take no for an answer? Embarrassed? At all the degrading, yet true words Yue had said? </p>
<p>“<i>I’ve even heard you whimper my goddamn name in your sleep.</i>”</p>
<p>Had he? Yut-Lung is an incredibly smart boy. He could have easily made that up, knowing that his hypothesis was true about Sing’s feelings. </p>
<p>But what if he had heard him do that? It made it even more real, which frightened Sing. At first it was all going on in his head, full of what-ifs, and hypotheticals. But if he had said or done something like that, he was catapulted into the real world. Either way, it was too late, What had been said had been said. </p>
<p>He thought to himself how he needed to sleep. He tried to clear his mind. He flipped over to his right side, facing the plush wall of the couch. </p>
<p>Clear your mind. Sleep Sing, sleep. </p>
<p>Yut-Lung had definitely heard Sing at night.  </p>
<p>Sing had had dreams about him, there was no doubting that. Some were more strange, more dream-like, like Sing walking into a gas station and Yut-Lung was someone working there. Others were harder to dismiss. Those were the ones that made his feelings come to the front of his mind, those were the ones that made his feelings irrefutable. He used to push them away, reasoning that dreams didn’t mean anything. Just the subconscious being weird. </p>
<p>He’d later come to conclusions on his own. </p>
<p>‘Sing, it’s not normal to have dreams about your roommate riding you and sucking your dick.’ </p>
<p>He’d come to that verdict long after he should have. He was just trying to put it off, to kid himself. </p>
<p>He laid on the couch, thinking. </p>
<p>‘No more kidding. It’s basically out now. He knows. Things will never be the same. You fucked it up. What kind of person refuses a kiss from the person they’ve unrealistically had their eyes on for what feels like ever? No one. No one would do that.’ </p>
<p>They were so close. Yue’s hands on his chest. Breaths swirling. He could practically taste his lips. God, he bets they’d be so soft. </p>
<p>What would have happened if they- if they had? </p>
<p>Soft, nimble hands. Porcelain skin. So thin, his chest so defined. The V trailing from his bust, down, down. Flesh so soft. Perfect lips. </p>
<p>To see Yut-Lung above him would be a dream. His long obsidian hair coming down around his shoulders; his face twisted in pleasure. The pride of knowing that <i>he</i> had made him feel that way. </p>
<p>He bet the sounds Yut-Lung would make would be wonderful. </p>
<p>He thought that Yue would want to mark him up, leave crescents in his back from clenched hands, hickies upon his neck. </p>
<p>Shit- no. </p>
<p>Quietly, arousal had started to snake around in his belly, warm and mischievous. </p>
<p>No. No, not right now. They had just fought, Yut-Lung had made him cry. Four times. And yet this is still where his brain felt to go? No. He felt disgusted with himself. </p>
<p>He hadn’t even touched himself, but he still felt dirty. </p>
<p>………………………………………………………………….</p>
<p>He stayed at Shorter’s for another day.</p>
<p>Another. </p>
<p>One more. </p>
<p>He stayed for six days. They were normal days, filled with laughter, food, and friends. Of course, no Yut-Lung. What was he expecting? </p>
<p>The sun shone through the windows of Shorter’s apartment, casting a cool glow upon the carpet settled in the living room area. Sing sat in the armchair, scrolling through his phone. Shorter was making lunch. It was a Sunday, and Chang Dai was closed for the afternoon. </p>
<p>It was still cold out, but it was sunny today. In a perfect world, snow would have been gone, but all over the streets of New York were giant, nasty piles or crunchy, brown and black snow. Gross. </p>
<p>On the other side of where Sing sits, Shorter whisks at something or other in a metal bowl. Something’s starting to bubble upon the stovetop, filling the apartment with a scent Sing can’t quite place yet. </p>
<p>Shorter’s phone starts to vibrate, subtly dancing on the counter next to where Shorter’s standing. </p>
<p>“Shit-” Shorter stops stirring, and goes over to the bubbling pot, taking the lid off. It starts to crackle and spit. “Hhhhhhnn,,,,,” He picks up the phone, holding it between his shoulder and his ear, while trying to tend to the stove and make as little of a mess as possible. </p>
<p>“Yeah, hi. Hm. No shit!” He laughs, which is what initially grabs Sing’s attention. “Yeah, me and Sing were kind of just talking about them! Small world, jesus. Alright. Should I come? Yeah, okay. Cool. See ya!” He stops tending to the pot for a moment to hang up his phone and lay it back on the counter. Sing stared at him, in a sort of ‘what-the-fuck-was-that-about-and-why-was-I-mentioned’ kind of way. </p>
<p>Shorter doesn’t turn around. </p>
<p>“What the fuck was that and why was I mentioned??” He finally asks, disappointed that Shorter couldn’t read his mind. </p>
<p>“Oh! There’s a fight about to go down, near the south station. It’s the Lee family and some new gang, mostly from the Dominican Republic, I think. Ash just called because it sounded interesting. I don’t need to be there. But the Dominicans guys mean business! I’ve only seen one fight with them in the past few months they’ve been here, but man, some of those people can really pack a punch! Anyway, it started with Yut-Lung, so I didn’t think you’d want to go.” Shorter had turned back around, back to whisking. </p>
<p>“What? We need to go!”</p>
<p>“Huh? Why? It’s fine, the Lees will win, they’ve been here for like, forever.”</p>
<p>“No- I mean I know, but it’s just-” </p>
<p>Shorter gasps, whirling around to face Sing from the other side of the room. “You want to see him! HA!” Shorter smiles wide, looking like he’s about to buckle over laughing. </p>
<p>“God, no- it’s just I don’t want him getting hur-”</p>
<p>“You want to protect him! Holy shit Sing!” Now he’s laughing, hands over his mouth. “Alright! Let’s go! Let’s fucking go! Lets see Sing save his damsel in distress!”</p>
<p>“Wait, really? We’re going?” </p>
<p>“Hell yes! Get your coat we’re taking my bike, c’mon.”</p>
<p>Wow, Sing didn’t actually think he’d be going. Okay, alright. He hops up from the couch, gets his jacket and slips on his shoes. </p>
<p>………………………………………..</p>
<p>They take Shorter’s bike. </p>
<p>Sing loves it when they do, the wind whipping his face, the idea of the fact that at any moment, thy could crash. But Shorter’s good, he knows what he’s doing.  </p>
<p>The wind whipping around him, leaving him breathless. He holds tight to Shorter's waist, knowing that one wrong turn could catapult him into the street. But Shorter's good, and he'd never be reckless. Sure, he's fast and showoffish, but never reckless or stupid. </p>
<p>They probably break a few laws on the way there. What, with how fast they're going, how many red lights running, and the way Shorter weaves through traffic. Whatever, Sing just wanted to get there. He can't miss this. </p>
<p>They arrive in four minutes. Google Maps said it should've taken ten. </p>
<p>The South station, where it's taking place, isn't the greatest place to hold a fight, at least not right now. The asphalt is wet, and covered in that nasty, black snow sludge. </p>
<p>He gets off the bike, and surveys who's there. Bits and pieces of Ash's gang, some of his boys from Chinatown, and lots of people he doesn't know. They're all standing in a haphazard oval-shape, standing around a key group of guys. He quietly shoulders his way to the inside. There they are, what he's here for. </p>
<p>In the middle stand six guys. Three from the new gang, four from the Lee's. The three are pretty tough-looking, but pretty small in build. No one he'd mess with, but could probably take in a fight. Not that he wanted to, that's not what he was here for. He just wanted to know what was going on. They were already arguing, but nothing loud or boisterous yet. The four Lees were standing across from them. And there he was; Yut-Lung. He was wearing dress pants, with a brown, semi-casual jacket. Made to look leaned-back, bit Sing could tell that the outfit was tailored to look unsuspecting. He looked calm, but Sing knew otherwise. His hair was down, and he had a few strands in his grasp. He tightly rolled them back and forth in betwixt his thumb and forefinger. He did this when he was nervous. Yut-Lung had, of course, never told him this, but Sing knew from experience. Even as nervous as he was, he still looked stunning. His makeup was done, but not in a way Yue would have liked. It was obviously done for him. </p>
<p>Their argument was starting to heat up, getting a little louder, and one of the guys from the newer gang had started talking with more passion and frustration. </p>
<p>"I can't believe this! We knew from the beginning that you played dirty, but this is disgusting."</p>
<p>Now it was the Lee's turn. Yut-Lung stayed quiet, working his hair in his hand. </p>
<p>"Sir, we were doing what we had to. This is juvenile. Street fighting is not something we will bring ourselves down to do. We'll be going. Come along, Yau-Si." They start to part the crowd, to walk away. Sing was almost disappointed. </p>
<p>One guy from the new gang grabbed Yut-Lung, making him jump slightly. The other Lee's spun around to see the culprit. </p>
<p>"You used him to get your way. He was your puppet, like some sort of sick toy."</p>
<p>"Yes. We're going."</p>
<p>Yut-Lung was starting to look frightened. He knew as well as anyone else that the men he came here with didn't care what they had to do to get the new gang off their backs, and Yut-Lung was a throwaway thing. But they needed him, he was the hook that lured others in. </p>
<p>The new guys were the next to speak up. </p>
<p>"Do you know what we're gonna fucking do?"</p>
<p>One if the Lee's, the head one, Sing guessed, flashed that creepy-ass passive aggressive smile. </p>
<p>"Mm? Nothing we haven't seen before, I'm afraid."</p>
<p>"We're gonna beat the shit out of your plaything." He yanked Yue to his chest. "That way, no one else will get use out of him. At least for a while."</p>
<p>He threw Yut-Lung behind him, to his two buddies. The look in Yue's eyes told Sing that this wasn't part of the plan. They of course hadn't made eye contact; Sing didn't even know if Yut-Lung knew he was there. But Yue kept looking around, eyes darting back and forth. </p>
<p>The two men grabbed him, while the Lees simply watched. They threw Yut-Lung to the ground, landing with his back upon the wet pavement. Hard. </p>
<p>Shit, no. No no no. This wasn't supposed to happen. No one was on Yut-Lung's side. The Lees couldn't give less of a shit, while the Dominican gang were about to beat him to a pulp. Shit. </p>
<p>One of the Lees spoke up. </p>
<p>"Wounds heal. The only detrimental thing you could do is kill him. You couldn't do that. We're going. When you've had your go, leave him. We'll find him later on." They turn around to leave, surrounded by a chorus of 'boos' and 'no's. Most people here like a good clean fight, not this dirty shit. But it's not they're gonna do anything about it. Not their fight to fight. </p>
<p>The new gang packs their first punch on Yue. </p>
<p>Shit. This wasn't supposed to happen like this. Not like this. </p>
<p>The Lees have vanished, nowhere to be seen. </p>
<p>A second punch. </p>
<p>A third. </p>
<p>No one's on his side. </p>
<p>Nobody's there for him.</p>
<p>Yut-Lung tries to cover his face, to at least try and protect himself, but they peel his hands away from his head. </p>
<p>The leader winds up his leg, looking to kick him. </p>
<p>No. </p>
<p>Shorter's behind Sing, shaking his head, not liking what's up, but he knows it isn't his place. </p>
<p>Sing turns around, making eye contact with him. </p>
<p>Shorter understands in a second. He takes in a sharp breath through his nose. </p>
<p>"Sing, no. No."</p>
<p>Sing widens his eyes at him. </p>
<p>"<b> No.</b>" shorter grabs onto Sing's shoulders, in attempts to hold him back. </p>
<p>Sing wriggles free, almost immediately. </p>
<p>"Sing! No!" </p>
<p>Right before the guy gets lined up with Yue's face to kick, Sing dives in, between him and the gang, on the asphalt. There's a choir of gasps and swears, the Dominican gang and Yut-Lung included. </p>
<p>"Who the hell are you?" </p>
<p>Sing tries to get up to get his hands on these guys, filled with rage. But, before he can, the leader steps atop his chest with his wet, grumps boot, holding him down. Sing can hear Shorter yelling from behind him, but his words don't sound real. None of this does. He didn't have a plan, what is he doing? The men atop him are staring straight down at him, looking more pissed than before. Shit. </p>
<p>He can hear Yut-Lung's shaky, labored breathing from his right. He sounds like he's crying. A stream of quiet, flustered 'no's coming from his mouth. </p>
<p>"No, nononono, no, no, nono…" </p>
<p>He doesn't sound like he's talking to anyone in particular. </p>
<p>The guy with his boot on Sing's chest speaks up. It's getting hard to breathe. </p>
<p>"I don't care about that boytoy anymore. Who the hell is this kid?"</p>
<p>Yut-Lung's protests start to gain volume, and speed. </p>
<p>"No- no, stop-" </p>
<p>The guy smiles. </p>
<p>"Oh, you know him? Maybe that's what we'll do, yeah. Friends, yeah? Okay, alright. Don't want him to get hurt, yeah?"</p>
<p>Now Yue's really starting to shake. Sing can't see him, but he can feel him. Sing is barely computing what's going on at this point. It's so tempting to simply close his eyes. He feels lightheaded. The foot keeps pressing on his chest. </p>
<p>"Anthony, get the kid up. Help me get him to stand him up."</p>
<p>Sing feels the weight being lifted from his chest, and a pair of arms underneath his, hoisting him up, onto his feet. </p>
<p>Yut-Lung scrambles to his knees, trying to do something, anything. </p>
<p>Shorter's still yelling. Something about how he's just a kid, how he isn't involved. No one's paying him any attention. </p>
<p>The Dominican gang converse for a moment, within themselves. </p>
<p>The leader looks at Sing, looking right into his eyes. Sing feels something wet on the top of his lip, blood l, most likely.</p>
<p>"We're gonna go for your shoulder. Seems like the pussyboy has some sort of connection with you, so we'll fuck you up instead of him. And you're not part of a rich gang. You're just some street gang. It's a win-win." He looks to his buddy. "Shoulder?"</p>
<p>Yut-Lung speaks up for the first time other than his frightened protests. "No! Wait, take me, please, fuck, no-"</p>
<p>Before he even realizes it, someone's hands are on him. One on the side of his neck, one on his shoulder. </p>
<p>He doesn't realize what's about to happen, until it's too late.</p>
<p>With the one guy holding him up, the hands move, in a clunky yet swift motion.</p>
<p>Pain seems to shatter through Sing, like the bones in his right side were turned into butcher knives, too big to fit into his arm. </p>
<p>He screams, and falls to the ground. The pain subsides, but by then he hears sirens. Someone called the cops. Shit, that's even worse. </p>
<p>The Dominican gang is gone in an instant, laughing as they escape. The crowd starts to filter away, but he sees Shorter. He's really close to him, with Shorter yelling. </p>
<p>"We need to go, Sing. Now. You fucked up."</p>
<p>Sing feels like he's walking the tightrope of unconsciousness. He feels numb, except for the wet asphalt beneath him. </p>
<p>No, he sees Yut-Lung. He looks like he's crying. </p>
<p>No. This is his fucking fault. </p>
<p>He tries to get up, but falls as he balances.on his right arm. The pain surges through him again, rendering him immoble for a moment. He tries again, with his left. Okay, alright. He gets up, staggering for a moment. Shorter tried to get a hold of him, but he shoulders past him. He goes up to Yut-Lung. His face is red, both with scabs and tears. Sing makes eye contact. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p>He remembers thinking about how nice Yue's hair looked. </p>
<p>……………………</p>
<p>He wakes up on Yut-Lung's couch, looking at the ceiling. He's covered by a blanket. It's still sunny outside. </p>
<p>Yut-Lung sits at the other side of the livingroom, holding an ice pack to his cheek and scrolling through his phone. </p>
<p>Without moving from laying atop his back, Sing looked over at Yue. He looked calm, cool even. But like someone who had stayed up all night weeping. He looked exhausted. </p>
<p>Sing felt disgusted at himself. Whatever Yue was about to tell him, he'd take it. He would take it.</p>
<p>How long had he been out? Who brought him here? Did Yut-Lung know he was awake? </p>
<p>Maybe he could speak up, ask him someth-</p>
<p>"It's pretty impressive."</p>
<p>Sing was caught off guard. "Huh?" </p>
<p>"For someone with the physique of a five year old, you took that pretty well." Yut-Lung smiled at him, looking up from his phone. </p>
<p>"Seriously? That's what you got from this?" Sing laughs, groaning. Alright, they're on good terms. </p>
<p>"I would like you to know I am equally grateful and pissed. Mostly pissed. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten our exchange of recent." Yut-Lung turns off his phone and puts it at his side. </p>
<p>Sing sticks his tongue out. </p>
<p>"That attitude is not going to last, especially for the fact that I have to pop your shoulder back into place."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Weight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>holy fuck I'm sorry it's a bit late!! </p><p>listened to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKfD8d3XJok">this song</a> a lot while writing!! </p><p>enjoy i am very tired</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sing’s shoulder hurt. It hurt so much. Strangely, it wasn’t a sharp pain or a stinging, just his body telling him that something was very, very wrong. It throbbed a bit, and he had a headache. </p><p>Yut-Lung was irritated and about to pop Sing’s dislocated shoulder back into its socket. </p><p>Cool.</p><p>………………………………………..</p><p>“Lie down on the floor.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“So I can relocate your shoulder, dumbass. Lie down on your back.”</p><p>“No please, Yue?” Sing cocked his head. He still had that last bit of fleeting adrenaline swimming around like tiny fish in his blood, and anything goes in his brain at the moment.</p><p>“I can and will dislocate the other one.”</p><p>Sing got down onto the floor. </p><p>“How do I know that you’re aware of what you’re doing?” Sing felt lightheaded. He was tired with a loose tongue. </p><p>“I’ve done this for Shorter four times and for myself three times. <i>I think you’ll be okay</i>.” Yut-Lung spat his words. Sing didn’t want to think too hard about the implications of the latter part of Yut-Lung’s comment. </p><p>The hardwood floor was chilly to the touch, the welcomed coldness seeping in through the fabric of his top. It was, after all, a Summer’s day. Not too gross out, but enough to be uncomfortable, like Sing thought Summer was. Too hot, too sticky, too humid. </p><p>“I still cannot believe you. That was not your place to be. If you were to have gotten really hurt, I don’t know I’d do. I was fine on my own. There was absolutely <b>no</b> reason for you to butt in like that.” Yue got down onto his knees next to Sing. He outstretched one leg, and put it beneath Sing’s arm. </p><p>“What’s with your foot?”</p><p>“You’re lighter than me, so that’s for leverage. If I didn’t do so, you’d simply yield to my force, and I’d only make it hurt more. Don’t want that, mm?” </p><p>Sing stayed silent. </p><p>His mind wandered. Somehow, Yut-Lung still looked beautiful. Above him to his side, Yue was pulling his hair into a ponytail and stretching his back. His makeup was a bit smudged, but obviously touched-up since the fight near the station. No more mascara streaks, but he had some small circles of off-toned makeup gather around his eyes. Lipstick and fake lashes had been removed. His nose was red, most likely because of wearing barely anything practical in the cold weather beforehand. </p><p>Sing wondered how he looked. His head ached a bit, throbbing behind his temples. He could feel the thin coat of dried blood upon his face. His knees hurt a bit, his jeans still a little damp from being on the wet, snowy ground. Cold, clammy fingers. Mouth still tasted a bit of the coppery tang of his own blood. His feeling on Yut-Lung’s foot moving itself a bit beneath his arm  brought him back to reality. </p><p>“Give me your arm, turn your hand away from you.”</p><p>Sing did so. He didn’t look at Yue. </p><p>Yut-Lung took his wrist. Sing treasured it, the slender, soft hands upon his. </p><p>Yue spoke up. His tone was cold, but a warm flame of caring simmered in his throat. “We’re gonna count to three. WHen we get to three, I’ll pop it back into place.”</p><p>“I don’t need a countdown. I’m not nine.” </p><p>“Sing. Listen to me. Don’t be pissy. This is going to hurt. Count, even if it’s in your head.”</p><p>Truly, Sing didn’t know how to act. He wanted to cut the bullshit and tell Yue everything he felt, to apologize about how he had acted previously. Another part of him wanted to talk back, to challenge, to be bratty and unco-operative. Another wanted to ignore him completely, shut him out totally. </p><p>Yue readjusted himself a final time, moving his hands a bit around Sing’s wrist. </p><p>“One,”</p><p>Sing found himself counting under his breath. He was scared. </p><p>“Two,”</p><p>He knew, he <i>knew</i> that Yue would never hurt him on purpose, and that he was completely safe in his hands. He was safe. He was safe. </p><p>“Three.”</p><p>Yut-Lung’s foot rooted itself underneath Sing’s arms, and his wrist was yanked forwards. Sing felt his shoulder shift, and with that, came a sear that he had become oh-so familiar with. All he knew to do was yell, and all his body knew to do was react. </p><p>Sing rapidly flipped over, jerking his arm from Yut-Lung’s grasp. </p><p>“<b><i>FUCK! Oh my god shit ow oh my god holy shit fuck fuck ow ow</i></b>”  Sing stayed there or a moment, breathing shaky and forced. Truly, it hurt like a motherfucker. But, it was subsiding, and he was starting to regain his senses. He takes a deep breath. He’s shaking, adrenaline pumping through him, nowhere to go. </p><p>Trying to get his body back to himself, Sing sits up and moves his shoulder a bit. It felt great, like it belonged to him again. He turns over to look at Yut-Lung, to thank him, even if it’s just something small. </p><p>Yut-Lung is next to him, Sing not having realized that he had taken his foot away. One was pulled up to his chest, his hands on his face. Oh wait oh shit fuck</p><p>“Yue- what’s- I’m sorry- what did I-”</p><p>“</p><p>“<em> <span>看在老天爺的份上，辛，你不能就這樣-</span> </em>”</p><p>Sing crawled over to him, onto his knees, not knowing what to do. Everything was different now. He could deal with normal; but this wasn’t their ‘normal’. This was different, uncharted. “Yue, I can’t understand. Speak how I can understand.” This tone, these words, something Sing had picked up upon his days with Yut-Lung. Speak clearly, calmly. Straightforward. </p><p>Yut-Lung’s sudden words snapped his attention back to what was going on. </p><p>“Sing- you can’t act like a white knight for me! I appreciate you so fucking much but I don’t need you living my life for me, I don’t want you to get hurt- because then I’ll know its my fault and I can’t have that I can’t have that please Sing I know you want and feel as if you need to help yet-”</p><p>Tears quietly wake their way down to Yut-Lung’s chin, some drop to his chest. </p><p>“I’m sorry I never know how to act, Yue. I want to help you I want to protect you I want to give you what you need but I don’t know what that is-” Tears threaten at Sing’s eyes, warm, sharp behind his lids. “I’m sorry I got hurt trying to help. I promise I was just trying to help you-” He doesn’t know why all this is rushing out; tears fall down Yue’s cheeks as well as his. </p><p>And there they are, just two boys. Two boys who aren’t doing what they should be. Two boys who shouldn’t have to get into fights. Two boys who shouldn’t have to sell their bodies. Two boys, desperately trying to hold on to something, anything, in their twister of a home, their tornado of a life. </p><p>“God, I can’t believe I got you hurt-” Yut-Lung shakes, almost starting to heave. </p><p>“No- it’s not you, I just wanted so badly to do something to help, to protect-”</p><p>Sing is interrupted by two slender hands behind his hips, pulling forwards, and the syrupy feeling of soft lips upon his. </p><p>It was quick, chaste. Yut-Lung’s cheeks were still wet, and upon Sing’s face was the still-sticky dried blood. Yue’s hair was a mess, Sing was still shaking. </p><p>Yut-Lung wipes his face with the back of his hand. </p><p>Sing just kind of stares. </p><p>
  <i>what the fuck</i>
</p><p>“I- uh-”</p><p>“Were you not expecting that?” Yut-Lung, as cool and collected as ever. Of course he was. </p><p>“Well uh I-”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like me to do it again?” He was smirking now, the ever-proud boy he was. His ego purred with the knowing that he had made Sing incredibly flustered, which was not an easy task. </p><p>He did. He did so badly. But was this really it? Was it seriously this easy? This could be trivial. If this was a joke, Sing would never hear the end of it. But, if not, and he said no, he’d regret it. He could tell he was blushing by the burning in his cheeks and ears. How uncharacteristic of him, he usually prided himself upon remaining stone faced in front of Yut-Lung. Most of the time. Sometimes they’d get stoned together, then all bets were off. </p><p>All Sing could do was nod his head. He felt like he was about to explode. </p><p>“Words, Sing.”</p><p>Alright, now he was just teasing. Sing could understand teasing. </p><p>“Lee Yut-Lung, you egotistical fucker.” Sing chided, smiling. He could do this. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. </p><p>Sing was surprised, yet again, by two hands upon his hips and his body being pulled forward. Lips met. </p><p>Yut-Lung was smiling. </p><p>They fit so well together. </p><p>Yut-Lung’s smile faded, trading for softer lips. <i>can he feel my heavy breathing fuck why is my heartbeat so fast</i></p><p>Hands were moved from hips to neck. Sing put his hands around Yue’s face. He treasured him so much. He didn’t want this to end. </p><p>This was a different Yut-Lung. </p><p>Hard shell exchanged for pliable softness. Knives exchanged for silk. </p><p>Yue takes one hand off Sing’s neck, leaning back and bracing his arm on the ground. Sing follows his lead, leaning against him. </p><p>
  <i>hell yes hell yes hell yes</i>
</p><p>Yut-Lung leans back more, supporting himself on his elbows. Sing lays next to him, still connected. Yue opens his mouth a bit, an invitation to deepen their kiss. </p><p>
  <i>fuck yess</i>
</p><p>Sing accepts his invitation, glady. He’s never done this before, but something inside him is keeping him from being self-conscious or nervous. His mind is blank, mostly. He’s just enjoying sensation. </p><p>Warm. Soft. </p><p>Yue slots his leg between Sing’s. </p><p>
  <i>holy fuck</i>
</p><p>Yut-Lung feels an incredibly suspicious hardness growing upon his leg. He smiles into Sing’s mouth. Sing feels his cheeks heat up. </p><p>“Wait Sing-”</p><p>Sing pulls back, smiling. </p><p>“Sing uh-”</p><p>It takes a moment for his eyes to focus, his brain feels fuzzy. Wait there’s red what’s red- </p><p>“Sing you’re bleeding-” Yut-Lung laughs, like a bell ringing through the room. Sing can’t help but laugh, too. His hands go to his face, feeling the smooth warmth of blood dripping from his nose. “Holy shit!!” He laughs, smiling big. </p><p> “Sing oh my god!”</p><p>“Wait- get up I need to clean up myself-”</p><p>“You got blood all over me!” Yue is getting up, smiling wide and batting at Sing playfully. </p><p>“You’re worried about yourself?? I’m bleeding out here!” Sing gets to his knees, his stomach hurting with giggles. His hands are at his face, cupping his nose. It doesn’t hurt, just kind of warm and gross. He can’t stop laughing. “Do you have like- paper towels? In the kitchen maybe?”</p><p>Yut-Lung scoffs, grinning. “I don’t know, I never have to go in there!”</p><p>“Oh, you’re helpful! It’s your house!”</p><p>They scramble around for a minute, trying to find something to clean Sing up. The bleeding has mostly stopped, but Sing still has a hand cupped with blood, and Yut-Lung still had some drops upon his face. If Sing wasn’t so giddy, he’d be embarrassed. He felt different. Great, even. Like a weight had been taken from his body. He could fly. </p><p>Yue called from the next room over. “<b>Toilet paper!</b>” If the context wasn’t known, he’d sound pretty deranged. Sing smiled to himself and jogged to the bathroom where Yut-Lung resided. </p><p>“Hell yeah!” He was welcomed by Yut-Lung standing at the sink, trying to wipe the blood off his face. Sing picked up the roll of toilet paper, wet it and started to clean himself up. </p><p>What a sight they must be. Looking in the mirror, smiling like goofs, half-hard, cleaning blood off themselves. It becomes quiet for a moment, as they both focus upon their reflections. Yut-Lung looks over at Sing, bringing his hair over his shoulder. Sing turns, too. THeir gazes meet, both of them suppressing smiles, giggles boiling up in their throats. </p><p>Yut-Lung walks forward. Sing prepares himself for lips upon his, but doesn’t get it .He feels a weight upon his shoulder, and hair falling down to his wrist. Yue had laid his head upon Sing. </p><p> </p><p>And there they were, just two boys, standing in the bathroom, embracing. White light shone through the windows, the white tile floor glimmering. There was no noise, just the sound of two boys trying to remember how to breathe. Two boys, trying their best to get through their lives, even if day by day. Two boys, scared. Confused. </p><p>And yet; so, so happy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>leave kudos?? or a comment???</p><p>also now I have an <a href="https://www.instagram.com/longlivetherobots/">INSTA</a> and a <a href="https://twitter.com/69elliot69">TWITTER</a> !!!! they will have updates and bad memes :)</p><p>i hope you liked it!!! i love you stay safe please</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. League</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sing thinks Yue is way out of his league. Shorter helps. Kind of.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I AM SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! It's a longer one though!! I was listening to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szeXkBYq5HU">this song</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfBY96qxVRQ">this song too</a> while writing it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>”You got a <i>nosebleed?</i>”</b> Shorter’s laughter booms through the whole restaurant. </p>
<p>Sing had just told him the goings-on of the night prior, shushing his loud voice. </p>
<p>“I mean, yeah, but that isn’t the point of this!-”</p>
<p>“Oh but it’s certainly a pretty good fuckin’ detail! God- I can’t-” Shorter interrupts himself with yet another fit of his own laughter. Sing elbows him in the side.  </p>
<p>“Sing, you had a <i>serious</i> chance of getting your dick sucked, and you decided to have a <i>nosebleed</i>??”</p>
<p>Sing fidgeted a bit where he sat next to Shorter, playing with his fingers. Would Yue really do that for him? No, that’s stupid. He liked the idea of it though. No, no, push that out of your mind. Jesus. “First off, that was <b>not</b> where it was going. And second off, it was because of my fight earlier that my nose started to bleed. Probably the change in pressure or something.”</p>
<p>Shorter scoffed, looking out the window of Chang-Dai from the booth they were seated in. “Ha, yeah; the pressure changed from all the rolling around you were doing with him.” Shorter snickered, laughing at his own joke. </p>
<p>“Whatever. You’re no help anyways.” Sing said, grabbing his jacket from the seat across him, and scooching out the booth where he sat next to Shorter. The heat was a bit too warm in the restaurant, making his thighs stick to the plasticy seats a bit. Outside, it has just rained, making the streets wet and snow banks start to turn icy. He said his goodbyes to Nadia, thanking her for the meal she had given him earlier. He waved to Shorter, who hadn’t moved from the booth against the window. He seemed to be spaced out, not seeing Sing’s wave. It was dark out, the windows filled with droplets of water. The back of the handful of neon signs against their window dully lit up Shorter’s face, blues and pinks reflecting off his skin and shades. Whatever, he seems like he’s fine. Sing his way out the door, shrugging his jacket on. </p>
<p>Hearing the faint, high-pitched <i>dingding</i> of the bell on the door, Shorter snapped out of his ‘trance’, or whatever it happened to be. </p>
<p>Sing started to make his way down the slick sidewalk, taking his phone out of his pocket. Yut-Lung probably wanted to know where he was. He unlocked it, and selected Yue’s contact. Putting his phone up to his ear, Sing took a minute to marvel at how it hadn’t kicked the bucket. It had been dropped, cracked, thrown, submerged in soup, you name it. But here it was, still chugging along. The dial tone sounded for a moment, then he was met with that ever-familiar voice.</p>
<p>“Hello Sing.” Yue sounded sleepy, but excited to hear from Sing.</p>
<p>Suddenly, behind him he heard; </p>
<p>“Go get that Cantonese skinny-boy dick!”</p>
<p>He spun around, and- yup. There was Shorter, hanging out the doorframe and waving. Rolling his eyes, Sing flipped him off and kept on his way. </p>
<p>To be perfectly honest, sometimes Sing didn’t know when Shorter was joking and when he wasn’t. Of course, his ‘goodbye message’ was just teasing, but what about what he had said earlier? Nah, probably joking. </p>
<p>He told Yut-Lung he’d be home in about ten. Yue told him he wanted to watch a movie. Sing told him it was too late, almost eleven. Yue pouted. Sing gave in. They said their goodbyes, Sing hung up. </p>
<p>He came over  to Chang-Dai a few hours earlier, as per Shorter’s request. He thought Shorter just wanted to see him or something, but turns out that wasn’t the plan. The moment he walked upstairs to the apartment where Shorter was, he was absolutely ripped a new one. </p>
<p>Shorter was absolutely pissed about the fight, and the fact that Sing had gotten hurt. He hadn’t even realized it, but he hadn’t called or texted Shorter since his shoulder was dislocated and he went over to Yue’s. </p>
<p>In all honesty, angry Shorter was scary. When some people got ad, they’d get passive-aggressive,, or give you the silent treatment. Not Shorter. Shorter just yelled. He’d yell and scream, he’d make you feel small, feel bad. He’d never get physical, of course, but his booming voice was enough to scare the shit out of you.  And he did just that. However, the tension faded and Shorter fell back into his normal self, cooking for Sing and joking around. They came downstairs when Nadia called for them, saying she’d made dinner. Both Shorter and Sing had just eaten, but they knew better than to say no to a meal from Nadia. It was delicious, as always. </p>
<p>It started to sprinkle, so Sing stopped his mind from wandering and focused upon getting back to Yue’s. He didn’t want to get soaked from being pokey. </p>
<p>…………………………………………………  </p>
<p>Sing trotted up the large set of stairs to the entrance of the villa, taking his key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. He still couldn’t believe he had his very own key. Yue treated it like it wasn’t a big deal, he was always just a bit giddy when he felt the cold metal jangling in his pocket. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, slipping the key back into his pocket. </p>
<p>Entering the front hallway, he pawed off his raggedy sneakers, looking quite out of place next to all the shiny dressshoes and heels. In his socks, he padded down the hall and up the stairs, liking the way the chilly floor felt on his feet and the way the soft little <i>taptaptaptap<i> sounded as he trotted up the marble stairs. </i></i></p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Grabbing the corner and swinging into the adjacent hallway, he jogged down to Yue’s room. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>He strutted into Yue’s room, flopping himself onto his bed, where Yut-Lung sat, his hair in a messy braid. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hey fucker.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Without looking up from his phone, Yue speaks up.  “Movie.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>It takes Sing a moment to process what in the world Yut-Lung is talking about, then he remembers their conversation on the phone. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“You have Hulu, right?”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Yue scoffs. “Why wouldn’t I have Hulu?”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“I don’t know, I thought it’d be rude to simply demand you to open up Hulu.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“I wouldn’t have cared.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, but that isn’t the point-”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Whatever. Pick a show or movie or something.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Yue tosses his phone to the other end of the bed, stretching out his legs from their spot underneath him. Sing chose some throwaway movie, getting comfortable in the obnoxious expanse of pillows and blankets that was Yut-Lung’s bed. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>………………………………………………… </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’m cold.” </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Tough shit.” Sing says, not even looking over. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Yue whines and pouts, giving Sing his Grabby Hands™. Sing groans, but secretly relishes this ritual as he snuggles up to Yue. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>…………………………………………………</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Yue has been strangely quiet, but sometimes he can be like that. Sing decides to speak up, not wanting to be the victim of anger later. He leans towards the boy on his right a bit, but it’s not like they can get much closer anyways. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“You feeling okay?”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hm? Oh, yeah!” Yue smiles at him. A smug one.</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“What? What’s with that weird smile? Are you in a mood?”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“What weird smile?” Yue laughs. Sing loves his laugh, he could drink it up. “What made you think I was in a mood?”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“I don’t know. You sounded kind of weird on the phone.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>“Well, phones are strange. Maybe it was Shorter talking in the background that made it sound weird.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>Sing thought about this for a moment. “Hm, yeah I guess.” Then, it clicked. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>And he remembered what Shorter yelled at him as he was leaving. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>While he had Yue on the phone with Yue. </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>“Go get that Cantonese skinny-boy dick!”<i></i></i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing was a bit freaked now, that was a joke! That was just Shorter!</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“What- what did you hear Shorter say? Did you hear him say anything, or was it just garble?”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue looked over at him, locking eyes. Sing suddenly felt very small. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“I think I heard the important parts.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"C'mon, you know Shorter, he was just, uh, being a douche."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue hums, still making eye contact with Sing. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he grabs Sing's shoulders and pulls himself over and up, settling himself atop Sing's hips, straddled. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Normally, Sing would be totally cool with this, they made out all the time. Maybe it was the fact that he was tired and therefore feeling different, or what Shorter had said earlier, but Sing was feeling much more flustered than usual. His normal, cool teasing self was gone, replaced with some new bitch, blushing and fidgeting. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue spoke up. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"I can kiss you, correct?"</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Yeah! Yeah of course." </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung leaned in, consequentially digging his ass into Sing just a bit more from where he sat atop him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>They met, Sing smiling a bit. Yue put his hands onto Sing's hips, while Sing put his own on Yue's chest.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Although they were similar in frame, Yut-Lung was still a little bigger. Of course, Sing had more build to him and broader shoulders, but when they sat like this, Yue on top of him, Sing loved to be the feeling. The feeling of being physically smaller, caged safely in Yue's arms. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing opened his mouth a bit, and Yue took that as an invitation inside. The experience was still a bit foreign to him, but he loved it. Everything about Yut-Lung was perfect. His lips were so soft, his hands so firm yet gentle upon his waist. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He loved kissing Yue. He could do it forever. It kind of felt like they already had been, who knew how long they could sit here entangled, eyes closed and tongues sliding about. To be perfectly honest, Sing still had no idea how he got here. Yut-Lung was the perfect example of 'out of your league'. Hell, he wasn't even playing the same sport. But here they were. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing shifted his attention a bit, wanting to focus on the physical feeling of it all. To cherish it, try to remember every little detail, memorize the shape of the boy atop him perfectly. He didn't know what he was really doing, after all. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>One thing he did know, though, was how Yue liked to kiss him. He could probably run circles around Sing when it came to experience and knowledge about this kind of thing, but Sing had learned one thing. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung <i>loved</i> messy kisses.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>At first, Sing just thought it was Yue simply trying to mirror what Sing knew and did, but as Sing tried to progress in experience and technique, Yue would always go back to sloppy, wrecked kissing. And that's where they were now; both their mouths were completely coated in spit, outside lips and all. Yue often would just go in with tongue more than anything else. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>And truth be told, Sing loved seeing Yut-Lung make a mess of himself. To see him after they had been embracing breathing heavily and covered in spit made Sing so happy. But really, he wanted to see how debauched Yue could really get; how much a mess he could be. His hair in disarray, legs weak, cum all over his stomach. Pride rumbled within him, knowing that <i>he</i> would be the one who made Yut-Lung like that. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Of course, they had never done something like that. And that was cool. Making out was enough to feed Sing’s desires. Forever, probably. He loved it so, so much. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>They had been sitting like this, slobbering all over each other for who knows how long, and thanks to his mind wandering and thinking about Yut-Lung riding him and covered in cum, Sing had started sporting a bit of a noticeable hard-on. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>And now, in the past, this is where Sing would stop. Laugh, kiss a little more, then excuse himself and jack it in the bathroom a few minutes later. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>However, perhaps it was his lack of sleep, or drunkenness of hormones, Sing decided to simply keep going. This was perfect, just staying like this. Tongues together, hands over clothes, feeling heartbeats, breathes intertwined. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>However, Yue apparently had other plans. He shifted on Sing's lap, he knew <i>exactly</i> how he was making Sing react. Yue wiggled a bit, sliding his ass up and down a bit. He pretended not to feel Sing's heartbeat picking up. Quietly, Yue bunched up Sing's shirt a bit, sliding his hands underneath. Just a bit, then pulled away from their kiss. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Is this okay?" </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing nodded frantically, not trusting his words to form legitimate coherency. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue smiled, sinking back into their kiss. Sing took Yut-Lung's bottom lip in his teeth and worked it a bit, something he had learned from the boy atop him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung snickered, backing up not even an inch. "You've studied."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Don't make me sound like a fuckin dweeb." </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue hummed, slowly raising his hands up Sing's chest, under his shirt. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>However, Sing could only think about one thing.  <i>Oh my god so soft how are they so soft and silky what the hell</i> </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>As Yue's incredibly well moisturized hands roamed around Sing's chest, he started to feel an incredibly suspect hardness underneath him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing's growing erection only egging him on, Yue trailed his hands up, and grazed his thumb over a nipple. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing practically squealed.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Both boys were taken aback by this noise. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing put a hand over his mouth. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Sorry, you just spooked me. Felt kind of good though." He was now displaying a wonderful hue of deep red upon his face.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>And that was all Yue needed to hear. Sing knew immediately, as soon as he saw that devilish grin that he had grown so accustomed to. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung went right back in, hands up near Sing's underarms, thumbing his nipples over and over again. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing, happily squirming below him, trying to get away from the sensation while also enjoying it. However, this wiggling wasn't really helping anything, as his dick kept rubbing itself against Yue's ass. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing could cum just like this. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue stopped, taking his hands out from under Sing's shirt. He looked at Sing, both of them adorned in some tone of pink or red. "Arms up." </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing did so, Yue helping to take his shirt off. After they did, Yue took his  as well. Sing was happy to watch, being shown that white smooth torso was always a treat. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung took his bun out, letting his hair fall down around his shoulders. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"You're so fucking pretty." The words just fell out of Sing, just instinct. He was just as surprised to hear that as Yut-Lung was. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Thanks." Yue flashed that devilish grin once again, before leaning far forward, taking one of Sing's nipples into his mouth, starting to work it softly with his teeth.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing damn near screamed. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He felt Yue smile against his chest before lightly biting down, then smoothing a flat tongue right over it. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing couldn't contain himself. He was squirming and fidgeting, his toes curling and uncurling. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>They went on like that, Yue biting and soothing all over Sing. His chest, his belly, his neck. At this point they were both hard as a rock, and Sing had started to unknowingly grind against Yue, just a little. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yut-Lung pulled his hair over his shoulder, and started kissing and biting his way downward upon Sing's torso. To feel Sing's muscles flex and relax when coming in contact with his lips felt wonderful, knowing full well that it was a physical sensation, brought on by <i>him</i>, and only him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Throughout this process, Sing had been making the most wonderful noises, those squeaks and whimpers music to Yue's ears. They sounded so familiar, for a reason he couldn’t really place. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Then he remembered. Yue remembered why those sounds were so familiar. They sounded like him, when he was Sing’s age. In the beds of strangers, trying his best to sound nice. ‘Sound like you’re having fun’. Yes, that was it. He couldn’t do that to Sing. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He stopped abruptly. Lifting his head up, leaning back a bit. He felt nauseous. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Sing, is this okay? Do you feel okay? I just- I know that I didn’t really ask and-” He was interrupted by the sight of Sing nodding his head, quick and intense. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Sing I need you to use words, I mean I get it but I just need verbal stuff from you or else I’ll feel like shit and I’m sorry I just-”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Yut-Lung, it feels so so so good I love this and you and I am very excited and happy that you’re here with me right now.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Of course, he never had felt like he was forced to do this or that Sing didn’t like it. It was just the fact that he had become so accustomed to either being alone, with himself, or somebody who couldn’t give two shits. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He felt two hands upon his face, and was pulled into a smiley kiss. Mostly teeth, but that was alright. Everything was good, Sing felt like he was floating. His stomach felt like a small bonfire, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t looking his best, breathing heavy and a bit tired. Who knew being in love was so physically tolling. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue slipped his tongue into Sing’s mouth, in which Sing pulled back. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“You taste like sweat!”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“I taste like your sweat, dumbass.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing made a face, but realized a bit too late that Yue wasn’t looking. Instead, he was tucked into Sing’s neck, kissing and licking. Sing kind of giggled, squirming, but leaning into the act. Without warning, Yue bit down, harder than he had any of the times before. Sing gasped, loving the sudden pain, then takeover of softness by Yut-Lung’s tongue smoothing over it. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Suddenly, Yue swung his leg back over, sitting next to Sing and facing him instead of straddling him. At first Sing was disappointed, until he felt a hand slither down to his shorts, palming his now full erection. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Guess we found out what <i>you</i> like.” The boy below him said, muffled by his being nestled into Sing’s shoulder. He felt another little nip of teeth, sending a jolt up his spine. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing meant to say something snarky in return, but was cut short by the feeling of a hand cupping around his cock, playing with his balls through his flimsy shorts. With his bulge, it was more the suggestion of attire than anything actually practical. He groaned, feeling Yue grinning into his shoulder. Yut-Lung drew back, focusing upon palming Sing. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing bucked his hips a bit without realizing, whining. Yut-Lung took that as an instruction to keep going. Leisurely, in case Sing objected, Yue dipped his hands into the boy’s shorts and beneath his underwear. Sing groaned, the sound itself making Yue hornier than he already was. Sing leaned back over to Yue, their lips meeting. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing pulls back for a moment, Yue subconsciously chases the kiss, following Sing’s head before backing off. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“I can’t believe this. You’re so out of my league.” Sing mutters, barely an inch away from Yue’s face. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“I know.” Yut-Lung gives Sing that perfect, stupid grin.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Hey, don’t be a douche- oh my god aah holy shit -” He interrupted himself, feeling a new, wonderfully forgien sensation. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>While Sing was trying to come up with a witty remark, Yue had spit on his hand, and shoved it down Sing’s waistband, now stroking him off. He was getting fed up with these stupid basketball shorts, so he took his hand (the one not in use, of course), and started to tug at theelastic around his hips. Sing got the hint and pulled off his underwear and shorts. Yue kept at his ministrations to Sing’s dick, Sing writhing and gasping. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“You’re really good at this Yue this feels really really good-” Sing’s own words are cut off with a groan, credit to Yut-Lung swiping his thumb over Sing’s slit. There’s loads of precum beading out and starting to drip, and Yut-Lung takes that as if Sing’s going to be spent very soon. Handjobs are boring anyway. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Smoothing his hand down Sing’s hip, Yue scooches down, fixing himself in between Sing’s legs. Yut-Lung’s own arousal is pressed firmly against his pants, and he desperately wants some physical attention. But no, not right now. Right now is about Sing, it’s his first time, it’s his time right now. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing was breathing heavy, his hair sticking to his forehead. His cock stood at full attention, leaking and heavy. Yue took his hand off, earning a whine from Sing, who had stopped forming words at all at this point. Tossing his hair behind him, Yue wet his lips and took a breath. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Are you ready? Is this okay?”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing responded with a whiny groan, wriggling around where he sat on the bed. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“I need a solid yes or no.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Yes! Yes please yes! Holy shit yes-”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue smiles, content. He presses a kiss to Sing’s thigh, which turns into a hickey, which turns to a bite. Yue pulls his head back to admire his word, a sweet red bruise upon Sing’s leg, coated in fresh spit. He blows some cool air onto it, making Sing jump. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Spitting into his hand, Yue gives a few strokes to Sing’s cock. Yue takes a breath, before smirking. Sing has no idea what’s in store. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He licks his lips, before taking Sing into his mouth about halfway. He’s rewarded with the dull <i>thunk</i> of Sing’s head hitting the wall behind him, and an accidental thrust of his hips. Instead of choking, Yue follows Sing’s movements until he stays still. He moved leisurely up and down his shaft, twirling his tongue around the head from time to time, earning louder moans than usual. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>From Sing’s perspective, Yue looks so good. He’s looking up at Sing with his deep, dark pupils, his hair a bit disheveled, jaw open and working his cock, eyes half lidded. And it feels good. It feels so, so good. The sensation itself of Yue’s tongue doing wonders is insane, and the warmth of his mouth is easily enough to push him over the edge. He’s breathing heavy, his chest heaving just from the sensation and sight of Yut-Lung below him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Yue takes his mouth off with the most lewd, audible <i>pop</i>, and licks up the shaft a few times, hands moving to Sing’s thighs. He groans, subsequently giving Yue confidence in his skills, and he puts Sing’s member back into his mouth, continuing his debauchery. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Just then, Sing gives another thrust, mostly to see what would happen. Yue doesn’t gag, in fact, he goes almost all the way down Sing’s cock. And holy shit that is so so so so nice. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>However; when Yue goes even further, nosing into Sing’s dark pubes, and feeling a throat try to close around him is what does him in. Before he can say anything, he’s cumming, spamming his muscles, curling his toes. He means to warn the boy below him, but he simply wasn’t thinking. Not knowing what else to do, He grabs the crown of Yue’s head, yanking upon his hair so as to not get a faceful of spunk. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He does so, and taken by surprise, Yue moans. It startles Sing, hearing such a foreign and sexy sound form the boy between his legs. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Although Sing had just finished, Yue’s hand is immediate in tending to his cock, working him through his orgasm. He can’t help but squirm and wriggle, thrusting up into Yue’s hand. They’re both breathing hard, sweaty, spent. Yut-Lung’s face is soaked with sweat and spit, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Sing has cum all over his stomach and chest, breathing heavy. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>When Yue flops forwards, laying exhausted upon the other boy, is when Sing can feel how fast his heartbeat is going. He hadn’t doubted it, but it was comforting to know that Yue had been just as aroused and tired as he was. And Yue somehow still looked great. He was achingly hard against Sing’s leg, but he felt that if Yue cared he would have complained long ago. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing spoke up, his voice soft, a bit hoarse. “I shoulder shower. I’m nasty.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“No.”</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Hm?” he was surprised at this answer, thinking that Yue usually endorsed cleanliness. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>“Now is chill time. You can shower later.” </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Sing didn’t argue; he loved having Yue’s bare chest snuggled up against him. What was he gonna say? No? </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Of course, Sing had no idea that both he and Yut-Lung would be fast asleep in ten minutes, coated in sweat and cum. Sing slept through the night. When he awoke the next morning, Yue was across the bed asleep in a new pair of pajamas, all perfect, (of course), and Sing realized he had been cleaned up and had a sheet put over him. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He had slept well. </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Dreamed of baseball.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Baseball?? Get it?? bc he's out of yue's league??? HA</p>
<p>I hoped you liked it!! Please leave kudos and a comment they make my day!!! Ok stay safe love y'all</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>taa-daa! </p><p>Haha- don't leave kudos ❤︎ or leave a comment 💬... that would be crazy 😝</p><p>unless 👀👀?????</p><p>follow me on <a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/69elliot69">twitter!!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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